Page 30 of The Tribune Temptation (Roman Heirs #1)
W ith directions from Taurus, Crispina climbed into the waiting litter that had ferried her from her parents’ house and told the litter-bearers to take her to the Viminal Hill. No doubt the litter-bearers would relay her itinerary to Mother when they returned, as she’d only gotten permission to go to Catullus’s house, but Crispina didn’t care. She hadn’t felt this energized since before leaving Aelius. Finally, she had a purpose, some good she could do after betraying him.
The litter slowed as it passed through a crowded square. Crispina nudged the curtain aside to glance out over the people filling the square, everyone hurrying about their business. A tall man caught her attention on the other side of the square, hand in hand with a child. Crispina drew in a sharp breath. It couldn’t be them…but the sun flashed bronze on Aelius’s hair, and she knew the lilt of his stride by heart.
“Stop a moment,” she called to the litter bearers. They drew to a halt and set the litter down. Aelius was too far away to notice her, but she watched him and Max nonetheless, her eyes drinking in the sight of them like the sweetest wine.
Max clutched a savillum, his favorite treat, and munched it eagerly. Aelius said something to him, a grin flashing across his face, and Max laughed, mouth still full of cheesecake.
Crispina’s heart twisted in bittersweet emotion. They were happy together. Happy without her. They didn’t need her. If she walked up to them right now, she doubted Aelius would receive her with anything other than disdain. Some of the purposeful fire dulled within her, but she tried to remind herself she wasn’t doing this to win Aelius back, only to right a wrong. Aelius might never forgive her, even if he won, and she would not beg him to.
“Proceed,” she said quietly, and the litter lurched back into motion.
They crossed the city and arrived at the Verus house, which was tidy and not much bigger than Aelius’s home. She would bet Verus was funneling the money from his construction fraud into a lavish country estate, so his urban neighbors wouldn’t notice any suspicious increase in wealth.
Crispina dismounted from the litter and knocked on the front door. A slave answered. Crispina gave her name and asked to see the mistress of the house, apologizing for the unannounced visit. She had decided on the litter ride over to try to speak to Verus’s wife. Firstly, because Verus probably wasn’t even home at this hour, secondly because she had a feeling she might be able to have a more reasonable conversation with a fellow woman.
The slave showed her into a small atrium. The columns were plain, with square-carved tops, but expensive statuary lined the room. Some of them were even gilded. Crispina found it rather gaudy, but perhaps it served as further proof of Verus’s illegal activities.
While Crispina was looking around, a light-haired woman around her age entered the atrium. She wore gold earrings set with pearls, and several heavy jeweled bracelets. The woman cleared her throat. “I was told you’re here to see me? Forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve met.”
Crispina shook her head. “I apologize for the intrusion. I am Crispina, wife to Aelius Herminius.” Her stomach clenched at referring to herself as Aelius’s wife. How much longer would she be able to say that for?
“My name is Licinia, but I think you must already know who I am. May I ask why you’ve come?” Licinia’s inquisitive gaze ran over Crispina from palla to sandals.
Crispina attempted an ingratiating smile, but feared she just looked smug. Winning others over was Aelius’s strength, not hers. “Our husbands are both involved in the election for tribune of the plebs.”
“Yes.” A spark of pride brightened Licinia’s blue eyes. “Verus tells me his chances are very good to win a place. I hope the same is true for your husband.”
During the litter ride here, Crispina had wondered how to play this conversation. Should she be forthright and demanding, or try to skirt around the issue? She settled for playing the na?ve young wife. “I overheard something rather troubling the other day, and I thought you would appreciate knowing. As I would, if I were in your place.”
Licinia cocked her head. “Knowing what?”
Crispina tried to read her expression and tone, to get a sense if the woman knew what Crispina was about to reveal. But Licinia looked no more than innocently curious. “There are some nasty rumors out there about your husband. I fear they may be devastating if spread too far.”
Now Licinia looked completely bemused. “I’m sure there are always untoward things said before an election. But I know my husband has nothing to hide.”
“So he’s not committing construction fraud and embezzling state funds?”
Licinia’s mouth dropped open, shock spreading across her face. “Embezzling…what?”
Either Licinia was a natural-born actress, or she truly had no idea what her husband was up to. This was more awkward than Crispina had anticipated. She stammered for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.
Licinia drew herself up. “If you’ve only come here to slander my husband’s good name, then I will kindly ask you to leave my home.”
“It’s not slander,” Crispina said. “It’s true. And if this news gets out, you will be ruined. Your husband needs to drop out of the election, or I will not hesitate to reveal what I know.”
Licinia’s eyes blazed. “Drop out? Based on the word of a woman I barely know? That is ridiculous.”
Crispina opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps behind her distracted her. She turned to see a man a few years older than Aelius entering the atrium. He shed his cloak and tossed it into the arms of a trailing slave without so much as a glance.
Crispina’s stomach tightened. She had not been prepared to have this confrontation with Verus himself.
The man glanced from his wife to Crispina. “Didn’t realize you had company.”
Licinia waved a hand at him. “Verus, come here and set this woman straight. She’s spouting all sorts of nonsense about you.”
Verus approached with a slow stride. “Have we met?”
Crispina inclined her head. “My name is Crispina, wife to Aelius Herminius.”
His mouth twisted. “The freedman.” Contempt laced his voice.
“Better a freedman than a thief,” Crispina shot back.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Please tell me what gives you the nerve to come into my house and insult me.”
Crispina drew in a breath and straightened her shoulders. “You embezzled state funds during your term as an aedile by using sub-par marble in the temples you built. And insulted the gods, as well.”
“Ridiculous,” Licinia muttered, but Crispina kept her focus on Verus.
Anger, but not surprise, blossomed across his face. He fixed her with a scorching glare. “Is your husband so incompetent that he sends his wife to make his threats?”
Licinia interjected. “Verus, just tell her she’s wrong and send her on her way. We don’t have to listen to this.”
“He can’t send me on my way,” Crispina said. “Because he knows it’s true. And it’s easily proven. All it takes is a cursory examination of the temples you were in charge of. Maybe you were smart enough to use good marble on the parts people can see close-up, but I’m sure the rest of the structure is cobbled together with wax and plaster.” She turned to Licinia. “My sympathies. It’s clear you didn’t know you were married to an embezzler. And now all of this”—she gestured around at the house—“hangs in the balance. The penalty for theft is repayment twice over, and then of course there’s the issue of blasphemy. A lawyer could easily argue that your husband was stealing from the gods themselves. Exile would be a mercy.”
Licinia had gone paler and paler as Crispina spoke, until her skin took on a gray cast. “Verus…” the woman said uncertainly. “It’s not true, is it?”
“I didn’t see you complaining when I showered you in jewels and silk,” Verus snapped.
“But I thought…I never imagined…” Licinia braced herself against a column. “By Juno, what have you done?”
Verus ignored his wife and focused on Crispina. “I assume there’s something you want from me, or the magistrates would already be here to arrest me.” His voice was flat.
Crispina nodded. “I want you to withdraw from the tribune race. And of course desist any of these fraudulent activities which may still be ongoing. In return, I’ll swear to silence. You will avoid financial ruin and public condemnation.”
He glowered at her. “Swear it.”
Crispina raised her hand, lifted her eyes skyward, and spoke a formal oath. “I hereby swear by Juno, queen of the gods, that if Epidius Verus withdraws from the tribune election, I will never reveal his illegal doings to a magistrate or the public. May Juno strike me down if I lie. And if Epidius Verus does not withdraw from the tribune election, I swear I will do everything in my power to ruin him.”
Silence fell in the atrium. She glanced from Verus, still bristling with helpless fury, to Licinia, who seemed on the verge of crumpling to the ground in shame. She addressed Verus. “I’ll look forward to hearing news of your withdrawal by tomorrow.”
“Get out of my house,” he growled.
“With pleasure.” She nodded primly, and showed herself out.